


Ut familiam.

by im_a_fandom_trashpanda



Series: Foxes, Fields and Family [2]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Picnic :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_a_fandom_trashpanda/pseuds/im_a_fandom_trashpanda
Summary: Title: "To family."
Series: Foxes, Fields and Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118438
Kudos: 14





	Ut familiam.

**Author's Note:**

> Wholesome picnic fic :)

They decide to have a picnic, and Fundy thinks Wil outdoes himself.

First, he single handedly bakes everyone’s favourite sweets.

Vanilla cupcakes for Phil and his wife, strawberry shortcake for Techno, brownies for Tommy, and apple pie for Fundy. There are two more baked goods in his basket, but Fundy knows Wil will bring him along when he visits Niki, and again when Sally’s ship next docks at the port.

Then Wilbur picks up his guitar and plays.

Fundy realises why so many of the village girls adore him. His playing is soft and gentle, and in the few moments he sings or hums, his voice is wonderful too.

There’s a quiet applause as he puts the instrument back over his shoulder and picks up the basket.

Fundy takes that opportune moment to tell them about how he learned to weave, and offers to teach them, too. Techno accepts, and whilst he knows Tommy’s declination seems adamant, he has a feeling he’ll have a visitor later that night. He shows Techno how to thread one piece through another, and soon enough Techno’s climbing trees to collect things in his only slightly wonky basket.

Sure enough, Tommy is interested.

Tommy comes creeping along to Fundy with an oil lamp in the middle of the night. It’s not like Fundy was sleeping, anyway.

Tommy doesn't have any material of his own, but Fundy hands his older brother the half-finished basket he had been working on, and shows him how to weave. It’s nostalgic, Fundy thinks, and it reminds him of all those years ago when Tommy taught him first how to read, then write, and then even draw simple little cartoons. Tommy’s sketches had developed as Tommy himself had, and the various photographs of him around the house at different ages (scattered amongst those of Techno, Wilbur and Fundy, of course) showed as much.

But Fundy’s favourite thing is when Tommy sent him a comic of a young boy, who had found a fox stealing berries and brought it home. And when Wilbur sang him songs about  _ clever young foxes _ . When Techno taught him how to use his almost inhuman speed to his advantage. When Phil smiles at him, even after a long day.

But most of all, Fundy’s most treasured memories are from when his family settles in front of a fire to get cozy, Tommy usually claiming to stay awake only to succumb to sleep first. Wilbur’s usually next, sometimes falling asleep in the midst of combing his hands through Techno’s hair. Techno is fifty-fifty. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep from the gentle way Wilbur combs his hair. Sometimes Fundy will still find him awake at ungodly hours, carving little wooden figures out of discarded firewood. The little wooden figures are fascinating, even if they leave dark bags under Techno’s eyes. Phil caught Fundy and Tommy trying to carve things themselves, once. Techno kept a better eye on his knives after that.

Phil is almost never asleep before Fundy. He watches the man pace sometimes, and on the rare occasions that he can’t sleep either, Phil takes him on a walk down to the roadside that is one of the only things Fundy remembers about his past. They can sit there for however long it takes Fundy to fall asleep, which is sometimes hours, but he always wakes up in his own bed, and Phil always makes sure he eats the next morning.

His family is small, and odd; but to him they are like the birds that Fundy sees along the walls, always brightening his day. He sees his family in everything. He sees Phil in the way that the bad days never last, Techno in the way the wind ruffles his ears, and tail, and everything around him. Wilbur in the way that the birds sing peacefully in summertime, but leave an eerie quiet in the winter. Tommy, in the way that crops grow slowly, but surely on the fields.

He finds the birds by the docks, although they are silent, listening to the ballad of a man, his brother, who’s heart is still sailing the blue, blue oceans. Wilbur’s guitar playing fades as Fundy sits down on the edge of the dock beside him. Neither brother speaks, but the birds fill the silence. It’s peaceful, Fundy thinks. And peace is okay.

When night falls, Fundy stands and offers Wilbur a hand. He picks up his guitar, but leaves the basket there. Fundy doesn’t question it. They walk back to the house in silence, too, and when they return, Wilbur curls himself into an armchair, loosely plucking the strings of his guitar in no particular melody. Fundy sits down on the arm of the worn chair, leaning against Wil in an oddly comfortable position. Techno takes the other arm, and Tommy sits on the floor in front of the chair. All three brothers sit there, content to listen to Wilbur play whatever he wants.

When Phil arrives home a little later, he’s not sure how they all fit in the armchair. But they look comfortable there, so he simply ruffles Wilbur’s hair, and gets comfortable on the sofa beside them, just so he can be there when they wake.


End file.
